


I Remember

by Resistance



Category: NASCAR RPF
Genre: M/M, Tearjerker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2015-09-22
Packaged: 2018-04-22 20:36:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4849655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Resistance/pseuds/Resistance
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Chase remembers being five years old in 2001.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Remember

**Author's Note:**

> This whole thing appeared fully formed from [this](https://41.media.tumblr.com/e51632e0686ca41b6ea200468283c736/tumblr_nfbh030amr1r8xqvqo1_500.jpg) and [this](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/12/1b/52/121b52ff97fd4e523e692c70c80aeeb7.jpg) picture.

People say you won’t remember your childhood when you grow up. I say they’re wrong.

I don't remember their most famous interaction, the so called ‘Pass in the Grass’. The one that got him the death threats and extra security and eventually lead to his nickname and his paint colors and his whole reputation. I wasn't born yet. But they told me the story a thousand times at least. An All Star race, of all things. They always competed, in absolutely everything, but especially in cars. Neither of them would give an inch, but neither of them would expect an inch to be given. That’s how they loved each other and that’s how they raised us to be.  
  
I remember being little and sitting in his lap. I remember listening to him tell me stories and talk about people (especially the reporters), even if I don't remember anything he said because I was too little to understand. I tell Dad that I remember sitting in his lap, but he tells me I was too young at the time and I only remember the pictures. I remember him telling me it was okay to call him Papa, if I talked real quiet around the guys, because I was his son as much as Dale was. I remember that being our secret, but I've told Dad since then and he gives me a smile like I think they talked about it, even if people didn't talk about that kind of thing back then. We knew that Dad and Papa loved each other, even if we never once heard them say it out loud.  
  
I remember people screaming at him a lot. Sometimes it was Dad, sometimes it was other drivers, a lot of times it was fans of other drivers. I remember learning a lot of curse words that way. I remember feeling proud that he made them so mad because that meant they were jealous of him. I think he must have told me that, but I don't remember him saying it, I've just always known it to be fact.  
  
I remember Dale sitting with me in the garage while our dads discussed something, or yelled at each other, or both. I remember him telling me that was how they showed love and I remember accepting that as fact. But at the same time, I remember knowing that wasn't how they showed love to us. I remember thinking that they took care of us to show love and I liked that a lot better. They pushed Dale harder than they pushed me. He's twenty-one years older than me, but he always talked to me like we were the same age. I remember how special that made me feel.  
  
I remember the day it happened. I was five, I wouldn't be six until November. People have told me I couldn't possibly remember, but I do. It was February and we were all glad to be in Florida where it was warm. Papa was getting yelled at before the race even started because he didn't want to do media stuff like he was supposed to. I remember he spent that time with us instead. I remember feeling special that we ranked higher than the media events. I didn't understand the trouble it got him into. I didn't care. Having his attention was the best thing in the world back then.  
  
I remember Dad had the pole and I remember secretly cheering that Dale would win because I liked it when he beat our dads, even for a lap. I remember the big crash that took out half the field and I remember being happy that Dale and our dads weren't in it. (I loved watching crashes back then.) I remember cheering on Dale as loud as I could, because the only ones that could hear me didn't really care who I was cheering for, so long as I stayed in my seat (or around it). I remember getting really mad when Papa spun out because he had been doing well, but I also remember being a little tiny bit glad because it meant Dale might just win. (I remember feeling horribly guilty for that later.)  
  
I remember the air being so still when his car didn't move after the crash. I remember my mother trying to get me not to look at what was happening because she must have seen something that my five year old eyes couldn't spot. I remember watching so hard for him to get out of the car. I remember the stretcher being wheeled over. I remember not being allowed to see anything else. Soon after, we went to the hospital with Miss Teresa and Mom, but no one told me anything. I remember being shushed every time I tried to ask someone what happened. I remember people crying and I remember being so confused. Mom hugged me, but she still wouldn't tell me what happened. I remember being very scared.  
  
I remember when Dad got to the hospital. I had never seen him cry before. I remember the fear I felt watching him break down. He sat in a plastic chair and I tried to sit with him, but Dale pulled me away. He took me into an exam room that was empty and he sat me on the bed and sat on a chair so we'd be eye-level. I remember him just staring at me for a minute before he explained that Papa wouldn't be coming home, that he was dead. I remember the disbelief. He was much too powerful to be dead, there had to be some mistake. I remember crying and I remember Dale hugging me. He sat on the floor and let me climb into his lap, the way I would sit with Papa when he told me stories. And I cried. I think he cried, but I'm not sure.  
  
I don't remember the funeral. Dale told me I was very brave and I held Dad's hand the whole time. Dad couldn't cry because there were too many cameras. I don't think I cried. Maybe I did. I cried a lot back then. So did Dad. I don't remember Dale crying, but I'm sure he did. We spent a lot of time together right after. He used to sit with me when I woke up after that nightmare. I remember that nightmare. I had it almost every night after the crash. But I made sure I didn't yell when I woke up. I didn't want to have to tell Dad what I'd been dreaming about. I told Dale, though. I told Dale everything. And he sat with me until I fell back asleep. Maybe that's when he cried.  
  
I remember the seething hatred that I felt for Kevin Harvick. I am still surprised that a five year old body could contain so much hate, but it did. How could they put anything with a 9 on that car and let someone else drive it?! How dare he try to take Papa’s place?! I didn’t, or couldn’t, understand that he wasn’t trying to take his place, he was just trying to do what Papa would have wanted, keep the car going. But all I cared about was the fact that he could race and Papa couldn’t and I hated him for it. He tells me that I told him so one day, but I don’t remember that. He tells me I screamed at him in a way that showed him just how much of an Earnhardt I was. I think that was the day I stopped hating him, but sometimes I’m not sure I ever did. I also came to have a visceral reaction to anyone driving an M&Ms car, but I try to keep that to myself.  
  
I remember begging Dale not to drive in the next race. I didn't know how nervous he already was and how much worse I was making it, I just remember being so terrified that he wouldn't come back. I don't remember begging Dad the same way, but I think I must have. I remember being afraid of cars for a little while after that. But I also remember pleading with Mom to bring me to races so I could watch Dad and Dale to make sure they were okay. Sometimes she would, sometimes it was too much for her. Dad may have been the only one that loved Papa like that, but we all loved Papa. Even Mom.  
  
I remember the complete terror I felt when Dale crashed in the very next race. I remember screaming and Mom trying to quiet me. I don't think I have ever cried that hard in my life. I know I have never been that afraid. Even seeing Dale climb out of the car under his own power, I didn't stop crying. I remember Mom having to carry me to the care center where they were checking him out. I remember launching myself at him and I remember how tightly he hugged me back. I was still crying and I think he was crying too. I wouldn't let go of him for a while after that. I remember him calling me 'little brother' to get me to calm down. (He still does that when I'm upset.) I remember trying to make him promise that he wouldn't drive again. I remember the fear I felt for a while after. I had lost Papa, I couldn't lose him too.  
  
I remember the first time Papa's car won without Papa in it. I remember people talking about the three fingers and how special that was and I remember being angry. Back then, I had two emotions about these things, I was either sad or angry. When it had anything to do with Harvick, I was angry, no matter what he did. I saw his tribute to my Papa as an insult, as if he was showing off the fact that he could drive that car and Papa couldn't. Maybe that was when I screamed at him. I don't remember, but I do know I hated him.  
  
I remember the race on Papa's birthday that year, because Dad cried as we were heading to the track. I remember every time that Dad cried in front of us because it didn't happen often. When he got upset, he'd go for a drive or he'd lock himself in the garage, or go anywhere that wasn't around us. But this time we were in the car and some song came on the radio and Dad started crying and Mom went to turn it off and he stopped her. He told us that it was Papa's birthday and he really hoped Dale could pull out that win for him. I remember that Dale didn't win, but he tried really hard. He came in third, but I had to look that up, I didn't remember it. I only knew that didn't win on Papa's birthday. He apologized to me, but I don't remember what I said. Back then, I thought Dale should win every race, so I don't remember this one being more of a disappointment than any other.  
  
I remember going back to Daytona. I remember everyone talking to Dale about Papa, but no one talking to me. Sometimes I forgot that no one knew how he looked at me and my sisters like his kids too. I wanted to talk about him too. I missed him too. I remember Dale sitting down with me, and putting me in his lap and asking me what I remembered about him. I remember him listening to me tell all the funny stories I could recall. I remember crying and hugging Dale. I found out later that Dad was watching the whole thing and he cried too. I would have felt guilty making him cry before a race. But I didn't know it at the time. If I had, I would have blamed myself for how low he finished, even if that wasn’t the reason.  
  
I remember watching the race and barely breathing. I remember watching the last lap with my heart in my throat. I remember cheering so loud when Dale won. I wanted to go down to him, but Mom said I had to wait. I remember him standing on top of a car like Papa did. I remember trying to sneak away from Mom to get down to Victory Lane, but she caught me. five year old me wasn't very good at being sneaky. I remember Dale sending someone to get me though and bringing me into the garage so he could hug me and I could hug him and we both could cry a little and no one could see us. I remember telling him that Papa was so proud of him and that Dad was too and that I was most of all.  
  
I remember after that race people saying that Dale cheated. I remember not understanding what they meant because Dale would never do something like that. I wasn't able to understand that they were implying that NASCAR fixed the whole race so Dale would win. I thought Dale could win every race, but of course Papa would help him win this one from heaven. I've had people tell me that I told off a few reporters, but I don't remember that. All I knew was that his win meant the world to our family and I was going to fight anyone that tried to take that away from us. We were all still raw and hurting and something like this helped ease some of the pain for a minute. I couldn't understand why anyone would want to take that away from us.  
  
I don't remember the events of September 11th, but I do remember the race after it because Dale won it. I remember there were flags everywhere. Dale had sat me down and explained about what had happened in New York and because of that, people were feeling patriotic and I'd be seeing a lot of flags at the race and most of the cars would have flag themes. This was supposed to be one of those 'where were you when' moments, but after February, nothing could come close in my five year old mind, not even that. I remember there being extra security people around, like when Papa got death threats, but that was all that seemed out of the ordinary. I remember the airports took a lot longer, but Dale was good at distracting us, so I didn't really care. I remember Dale's backwards lap when he won and I remember thinking that Papa was probably laughing at it, like I was.  
  
I remember the race in Charlotte that year because for the very first time in my whole life, I didn't have Dale's full attention. And I didn't like it. I remember him telling me about this guy before, he'd met him while he was wasting his time on races that weren't Winston Cup, but I hadn't really paid attention. I only wanted to hear about his car and how it drove and how the race went, not some guy he'd met. I didn't notice the way he talked about him. I remember him introducing me to him at the Charlotte race with a look like I was supposed to care. He wasn't a teammate, he wasn't a relative, he wasn't working on our car (and yes, the 8 was 'our' car), so why was I supposed to care. I remember him shaking my hand and trying to talk to me like I was a baby. I remember rolling my eyes at him and telling Dale we had work to do. I remember how shocked I was when Dale snuck off with this guy instead of talking to me about our car. I didn't like that at all. But I remember Dad's knowing smile and I remember him taking me into his garage so I could 'look over' his car instead.  
  
I remember our next trip back to Florida, because that was Dad's first win since before I was born. I remember sitting on the edge of my seat through the last lap, praying so hard to Papa to let Dad finally win something. I remember celebrating as hard as I possibly could because I knew Papa was celebrating too in heaven. I remember Dad not looking quiet as happy as he should have and knowing that he was missing Papa extra hard in that moment. I remember hearing Dad cry that night. I snuck to his door and heard him talking to Papa about how mad he was that he wasn't at the race to celebrate with him and how wins just didn't mean as much when he wasn't beating him. I remember him telling Papa how much he missed him and how much we missed him and how good Dale was taking care of me and how proud he would be of his boys. I remember sitting outside Dad's door and crying until Dale came and made me go back to bed.  
  
I remember hating everything about how the season ended. I remember being angry with Jeff Gordon for daring to tie Papa's Championship record. I remember being angry with Kevin Harvick for winning Rookie of the Year because he was driving Papa's car. I remember being angry that they voted Papa Most Popular Driver because he was dead. Dad had always won it before but he refused to be in the running and instead told everyone to vote for Papa. I remember it seeming really weird to me that people would do that when they were screaming at him and sending him death threats only a few months before. Papa wasn't the most popular driver, he was the best driver. If they wanted to give him a trophy, that should have been what it said. I remember Dale's weird smile when they told him what Papa had been voted as. I remember him looking at Dad and saying 'He'd be so mad' and laughing. I remember Dad laughing too, which was nice, because Dad hadn't laughed much that year.  
  
I remember going home after the season was over and trying to be normal for a while. I remember seeing less of Dale that winter than I ever had and I remember when I did see him, that guy was almost always with him. But I remember building go-karts with them and I remember playing baseball in the yard and I remember throwing a football as hard as I could just to see if I could make him miss the catch. I remember things slowly becoming calm and a new kind of normal developing. I remember feeling okay again and I remember seeing Dad smile days in a row. I remember thinking this is how Papa would want things to be. I remember being happy. Finally.


End file.
